


Close Calls

by RedHotLover (Parker4131970)



Category: due South
Genre: Angst, F/M, Flashbacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-08 16:35:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15247398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Parker4131970/pseuds/RedHotLover
Summary: Meg re-thinks her burgeoning relationship with Ben.





	1. Chapter 1

_**Man is a rope stretched between the animal and the superman – a rope over an abyss.** _

Friedrich W. Nietzsche

~*~

“Hey, uh, Inspector, this is Ray.”

Meg stifled an irritated growl as the replacement detective began speaking. It had been a long day of tedious meetings with pompous officials from headquarters.

“Fraser wanted me to call and tell ya he won't be makin' dinner tonight.”

That got Meg's full attention.

“Why can't he contact me himself? Where is he? What's happened?” she demanded.

“He's okay, really. He's Fraser, ya know. Thing is, he was shot in the head. We're at Cook County General Emergency Room.”

Meg hung up.

“Constable Turnbull!” she bellowed.

The junior officer stumbled over his own feet coming to a complete stop before her desk. Meg didn't look up, only continued gathering her jacket, briefcase and purse.

“Fraser's had an emergency. I'm headed to the emergency room. If anyone asks, answer with 'I'll have her call you back'. Take messages for me. Do NOT use the stove, or the toaster, or the coffee maker.” Meg paused, finally looking at her junior officer.

“Do NOT use anything in the kitchen. Period.” She nodded before stalking toward the officer door.

“Yes, Inspector,” Turnbull intoned with all seriousness.

Meg hoped he didn't burn the consulate down.

***

_**Cook County General Emergency Room …** _

Meg blasted through the automatic doors, a grim set to her jaw and fear in her eyes. A lanky blond appeared from the left on an intercept course.

“Hey, Inspector.” Ray K. jogged the few paces across the full waiting room. Meg stopped short. She felt little patience for him at the best of times.

“Yes, Detective.” She took a deep, calming breath.

“Fraser's doctor says he's okay, that it looked worse than it was.”

“Where is he? I want to see for myself,” Meg demanded, trying to step around the detective blocking her route.

“Uh, Inspector, don't give him a hard time, okay. It wasn't his fault, he …”

“Step aside, Detective,” Meg ordered before he could finish. A moment later she breezed into the E.R.

“Constable Fraser?” She raised her voice, earning glares from the nurses. A moment later she saw Diefenbaker stick his head out between two privacy curtains.

“There he is,” Meg muttered to herself. She threw aside the side of the curtain. An old lady lay on her side, her gown hitched up beneath her breast. A mound of white, wrinkled skin crisscrossed with varicose veins and stretch marks gleamed in the overhead light. A startled nurse yelled as Meg and the old lady locked eyes. The nurse held a one liter bottle, a thin tube running from it to an unknown destination between the old lady's butt cheeks.

“Oh dear,” Meg breathed before clasping her left hand over her mouth.

“Hey!” the old lady screamed. As she struggled to sit up a gush of yellow clay colored feces and fetid smelling liquid sprayed out. A gust of sulfurous air followed, sounding like pressurized thunder.

Meg immediately retched, her throat constricting as her stomach heaved upward. She jerked the curtain closed again before lurching toward a garbage can sitting between exam bays.

“Meg?” Fraser's voice barely penetrated the sound of her retching. Meg had emptied her stomach. When she looked up Fraser held a damp wash cloth and a plastic cup of water. She accepted the wash cloth first; patting her mouth clean. Next came the water, which she gladly swished around her mouth before spitting into the trash.

“That was horrible.” She shivered as Fraser put his free arm around her, his other hand around an IV pole. He led her into an exam bay two curtains down.

“Can I get you anything else, Meg?” Ben asked as she sat down in a hard, plastic chair. She looked up at him as she stood in front of her. Finally, she noticed his head wreathed in bandaging. It ran the circumference of his head just over the ears.

“What happened?” Meg rose to her feet to look him over for herself.

“It's just a graze,” Ben answered softly, avoiding eye contact.

“Answer me, Ben. What happened?”

“Great, now he's digging at his eyebrow. He thinks I'll be angry.” She sighed internally. “He's probably right.” Since finally breaking the barrier between them two months ago Meg had tried to contain her temper in an effort not to push Ben away.

***

_**FLASHBACK ...** _

Meg took a deep breath as she straightened her skirt. She let it out before knocking on Fraser's door. No. Benton's door, she reminded herself. This wouldn't work if she started out formally.

KNOCK! KNOCK!

Meg heard the wolf bark to alarm Ben. Then she heard footfalls and the door knob turning.

“Inspector Thatcher, sir, how …” He blinked when she held up a hand to silence him.

“This isn't official business. Please, call me Meg.” The wheels in his mind spun, the Mountie Mask in place.

“Please, come in, Meg.” Ben stepped aside for her.

Meg caught his scent as she swallowed before stepping over the threshold. This was Fraser's inner sanctum; unknown territory.

After the door closed Ben asked, “Would you care for some coffee, tea perhaps?”

She felt him step closer, trying to get in front of her in the small office.

“No, thank you, Benton.” She hesitated. If I don't say this bluntly I never will, she thought.

“Ben, I've come to ask if you'd like to have coffee with me Saturday morning?” She laced her fingers to keep from fisting her hands.

“It's been months since you asked me to coffee after the NAFTA fiasco. I thought,” She couldn't help babbling. “that is if you'd like to.”

Meg remembered how she and Ben had passed her car keys back and forth after de la Croix's arrest. Finally, he'd kept them and driven to an all-night cafe.

“Yes, I'd like to very much.” His words sounded rushed. Meg knew the feeling.

“Very well. I'll see you Saturday at 10 AM at Nyala. It's a casual place.” Meg surprised herself by smiling. Even better, Ben smiled back.

“Good evening, Meg.” His voice lingered over her name to her ears.

***

_**Saturday …** _

_**10 o'clock …** _

Ben stood outside Nyala holding a single, yellow rose as Meg knew he would. He alternately smoothed his dark hair, which had been trimmed, and talked to the wolf. Meg smiled knowing he had the jitters as well.

Her attention turned to her own appearance. She rubbed the tops of her penny loafers against the back of her jeans' legs before brushing lint from her mint colored sweater. Fiddling with a small, gold charm on an 18 inch gold chain Meg crossed the street.

Here we go, she thought as her stomach clenched.

Ben caught sight of her almost as soon as she stepped foot in the crosswalk. Meg smiled, stifling the urge to wave.

“Hello, Ins, ah, Meg,” Ben greeted her, his ears turning pink after his gaffe.

“Ben, good to see you.” She took the yellow rose he offered, putting the fragrant flower to her nose.

“Your suggestion we have coffee came as a surprise.”

Meg noted a bit of caution in his voice and wariness in his eyes as they waited for a table.

I'll have to remedy that, she vowed.

“I didn't ask you to coffee lightly. Honestly, I'm tired of being two different people. At work I'm Inspector Thatcher. Nothing penetrates Inspector Thatcher's armor.” She ran the pad of her thumb over one of the rose's thorns.

“Meg on the other hand feels everything.” She let the thorn pierce her skin until a drop of blood welled. Before she could put her thumb to her mouth Ben gently placed his handkerchief over it and gathered her hand between both of his.

“Thank you,” Meg breathed.

“You're most welcome.” The shy smile he gave her made Meg's heart drop.

“Shall we?” Ben offered his arm to escort her farther inside. Meg nodded before slipping her arm through.

_******* _

Coffee turned into lunches and then to dinners until Meg found herself outside the Vecchio house.

“They are going to shred me. Ray can't stand me and Francesca sent a black rose when she found out we were dating,” Meg fussed as she stood on the front Welcome mat.

“Nonsense. The Vecchios are lovely people. Ray sent the rose as a prank and signed Francesca's name to it. You'll be fine,” Ben assured her, squeezing her hand before ringing the doorbell.

“Hey, Fraser.” Tony, Ray's brother-in-law shook his hand.

“Fraser's here, and he brought a date!” the man yelled. All of the Vecchios came out of the woodwork. Ma Vecchio stepped out of the kitchen, Francesca from the dining room and Maria trailing the kids from upstairs.

“Tony said you brought a date. Where is she?” Ray made a big deal of looking around Meg. Mischief twinkled in the blond detective's blue eyes.

“Ray,” Ben grumbled as he handed him their coats. Meg held onto the bouquet she had brought.

“Very funny, such an underwhelming wit,” Meg said dryly. Ray flashed her a wicked, teasing grin in reply.

“Come in, Ben. Introduce us to your young lady,” Ms. Vecchio shooed her brood away before taking Meg's free hand.

“Ms. Vecchio, this is Meg Thatcher, my, ah, my girlfriend.” Ben dug at the collar of the blue t-shirt he wore under a black and blue, flannel shirt. Meg ignored his discomfort in favor of dealing with her own as Ms. Vecchio pulled her into a stifling hug. She awkwardly patted the buxom woman's shoulder.

Everyone turned when they heard the back door slam and a loud, feminine scream from outside. Meg wondered if the window glass would shatter.

“What the …” Ray muttered, hands on his hips.

“Where's Frannie?” Maria asked looking around the comfortably large living room.

“Oh dear,” Ben breathed in surprise. A moment later the backdoor opened and closed; quietly this time. Francesca walked out of the dining room a minute later. She wore a cheerful expression, dark eyes wide and her smile from ear-to-ear.

“Are you alright, Frannie?” Maria asked, brow furrowed in concern.

“I'm fine. Don't I look fine?” Frannie answered brightly, her voice almost shrill.

“Everyone come, eat. I have been cooking all day.” And Mrs. Vecchio's stained apron attested to it.

“First there is acquacotta, soup with vegetables. Francesca and Maria baked cannelloni, stuffed with spinach and smothered in white sauce. For Ray I made baccala alla vicentina, fish. With that there is panzanella, with fresh greens from the farmer's market. For dessert Maria made cassala and Tony surprised us with panna cotta.” The woman beamed with pride, though she'd never admit to it.

“That sounds wonderful, Ms. Vecchio.” Ben complimented her sincerely. Meg followed her and the others into the dining room. Bread sticks sat in the middle of the large table. Ms. Vecchio quickly put Meg's flowers in a vase and set them in the center of the table. Colorful dishes lined the length of the pristine, white tablecloth.

As she stood looking at the gathered family – and Ray – Meg felt a small, warm hand tug at hers. Peering down she looked into the toddler's light brown eyes, dimpled cheeks and couldn't resist swinging the toddler up onto her hip. The little girl immediately laid her head on Meg's shoulder and slid her arm around Meg's neck. Her soft, round body fit perfectly against Meg.

Meg looked over at Ben, who'd seen the whole interaction from his expression. She shrugged as if to say, What else could I do? Meg's heart melted when she met Ben's eyes and saw an adoration and affection no man had ever had for her.

“Here, let me have her. I hope Melody didn't bother you.” Maria reached for the little girl snuggled against Meg.

“Oh, no, I don't mind.” Meg reluctantly handed little Melody over to Maria. Ben caught her eye, winking to make her smile. At that moment Meg wanted a baby, Ben's baby, badly enough to cry. He felt it, too. His eyes had told her so.

*******

_**AFTER DINNER AT THE VECCHIO'S …** _

Meg walked slowly beside Ben as they strolled through the underground parking garage beneath her apartment building. She looked over at him when Ben squeezed her hand.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he asked, pausing beside a black Cadillac.

“Dinner. Melody mostly. It's an unusual name.” She shrugged. A damn sight better than Margaret, she added mentally. Benton's hands rested on either side of her waist as he listened.

“There's more,” he stated with his usual, uncanny knowing.

“What would you name your children?” Meg felt nervous asking. They'd only been dating a short time. She watched as he looked off toward where Diefenbaker sniffed tires before lifting his leg.

“If it were a girl I would name her Hannah or perhaps Martha. My mother's name was Caroline.” Good, solid names. Typical of Ben.

“What about for a son? Robert like your father?” Meg guessed. She rested her hands on his shoulders, her head leaning against the column to look up at him comfortably.

“Yes, perhaps,” he answered quietly.

“Have you chosen any names for your children?”

Meg thought back to her teens and all the dreams and plans she'd had for herself. So naive, she scolded herself silently.

“Definitely NOT Henri,” she joked with a shudder.

“Ah, no,” Ben chuckled, his blue eyes merry.

“There are so many names. Julia for a girl and Thomas for a boy I suppose.” Two of many she'd considered over the years.

“What if you have twins?” Ben's voice, teasing and suggestive, sent a chill up Meg's spine.

“I'll name one and you name the other,” she answered softly, lost in the feel of his hot hands and the way he kept glancing at her lips. A moment later they'd closed the distance between them, bodies pressed flush. Meg felt her back hard against the column as Ben taunted her mouth with his tongue. Meg resisted only a split second. His tongue ventured past her lips tentatively at first, seeking permission or perhaps exploring. For a moment Meg felt a cold wind against her face and the train car rocking beneath her boots again.

I've wasted so much time avoiding this relationship, she realized when Ben pulled back to breathe.

“I – I love you,” Meg said aloud, her heart beat thundering in her ears.

“And I love you,” Ben raised his hand, cupping her cheek, his thumb wiping away a stream of tears from her cheek. Meg buried her cheek against Ben's shoulder.

“I've never told anyone that but my family. You're the only one I've felt like this about.” She sighed, her tears dry.

“Once, I thought I loved someone.” Before he could go on, Meg gently put her finger over his lips.

“You don't owe me an explanation, or an excuse or reasons. We've both made choices but right now we choose each other.” She wanted to alleviate the pain she saw in his face. The Metcalf woman hung like a mill stone around his neck, still.

I'll love her bad memories away, Ben. Just wait, she promised silently.

“Okay,” Ben said with a smile.

After a few more, lingering kisses Ben walked Meg to her apartment door. They bid each other good-night reluctantly.

I'll see him first thing in the morning at the consulate, Meg reminded herself as she locked her door.

***** 


	2. Chapter 2

_**End Of Flashback …** _

_**Cook County General Emergency Room …** _

“You know what, never mind. I'll read it in your report later.” With that Meg turned on her heel and walked out.

How can I build a life with someone so reckless? What would I tell our children? She felt sick at the thought.

“Hey, Inspector,” Ray called, jogging to catch up to her as Meg stalked through the waiting room.

“Not now, Detective. Not now.” She threw up a hand to ward any father conversation off. Her gut roiled with emotion; anger, hurt, worry all vied for attention.

Blast that man, and blast me for loving him. Meg let her tears flow once her car door closed beside her. She didn't bother starting the engine, unable to see through the water works. It took ten minutes for her to get herself together enough to drive back to the consulate.

Why am I crying? I never cry, she wondered aloud as she drove. Between stops and starts she began examining the possible reasons: Stress, hunger, lack of sleep, PMS.

All of the above applied she realized. Superiors in Ottawa demanded everything and right now if seemed. Breakfast had been six or seven hours before. Since she'd started dating Ben late nights together had severely limited her sleep. That left PMS. Meg began to mentally calculate her cycle.

Oh my! Four days overdue, Meg realized. She slammed on the breaks. A pick-up truck behind her honked, the driver leaning out the window to shout obscenities.

Meg heard none of it, didn't register the smell of hot rubber and distressed metal.

I couldn't be. I'm on the Pill. We used protection all but that first time, she recalled.

A knock on the passenger side window startled her, pulling her back to the matter at hand. She rolled the window down a quarter of an inch to let the concerned looking man who'd tapped speak.

“You alright, lady?” the dark haired man asked loudly.

“Yes. I'm very sorry.” Meg checked her mirrors before merging back into traffic.

“Now what do I do?” she asked herself out loud. Should she buy a home pregnancy test? Should she make a doctor's appointment? Should she tell Ben?

Her anger and fear about his recklessness returned. Children needed a mother AND a father she felt. To raise a family she wanted a husband to share the burdens and the joys.

I can't tell him; not yet. Not until I know for certain I'm pregnant. I don't even know if he's the one I WANT to have a family with yet, she reasoned. That felt like a big lie even as it crossed her mind. She'd seen him with the elderly, with animals, and Constable Turnbull. His only weakness was women. Meg understood that now.

At the consulate Meg went about her business as much as her distracted mind would let her. She barely kept from snarling at the staff members. Crying she kept at bay by being angry.

_******** _

_**Six O'clock PM …** _

_**Meg's Apartment …** _

Meg took a deep breath before she left the elevator car at her floor. Ben had called earlier in the afternoon to say Ray had dropped him and Dief at her place.

How am I going to face him? He know me too well, she wondered.

Her apartment door opened before Meg could dig out her house key. Ben stood in the doorway, Dief edging out around his legs. Meg met Ben's gaze, her throat tight with relief and a suppressed sob. When she met him at the door she threw her arms around him.

“I am SO angry at you,” she said into his shoulder.

“My love, I'm sorry,” he murmured into her ear.

“You don't even know what I'm angry about,” she growled, pulling back to smack his arm.

“You feel that I don't place enough value on my life,” he answered as he followed her inside.

“Damn right!” Meg turned on him, startling Diefenbaker who bristled. Ben stroked the wolf-dog's head to settle him down. Diefenbaker slunk off to his dog bed grumbling.

“How did this happen?” Meg asked more quietly. She gently touched the corner of the gauze pad taped to the side of his head.

“A suspect fired at Ray, missing thankfully. I was injured by a ricochet after the bullet struck a brick building.” Ben went on to tell her that Ray had insisted he go to the ER because of blood loss.

“That still doesn't explain why you were running TOWARD an armed suspect. There are procedures for that sort of thing; American law officers for the job.” Meg pointed out. Everything inside wanted to cry but she remained calm. Making Ben uncomfortable wouldn't accomplish anything. He had to see reason as clearly as she did.

“Ray needed my assistance,” Ben answered simply, as if it were the only possible explanation in the universe. Meg sighed, resigned to their difference of opinion. He had just made up her mind for her.

_******** _

_**A few days later …** _

_**Midnight …** _

How am I supposed to break off the best relationship I've ever had? Meg wondered as she lay next to a sleeping Ben.

He's become my best friend and a damn fine lover. That thought took her back to those first few weeks after she'd asked him to coffee.

_**FLASHBACK …** _

“This is our third dinner this week,” Meg mused as she sat across her small, kitchen table from Ben. Two tapered candles burned between them; the only illumination in the room.

“Is everything acceptable with your meal, Meg? You aren't eating.”

How could she eat when all her thoughts centered on kissing him, on touching him and being touched? Her fingers flexed, wanting to run through the thick, soft hair at the back of his head.

“It's delicious. You're an excellent cook. I'm just distracted,” she explained. Meg felt her face warm and the need to wet her lips. Ages had passed since anyone had aroused her like Ben. The attraction surpassed the physical. His sneaky humor and genuine warmth drew her in.

I want him so badly but what if he thinks it's too early? She swallowed a drink of ice water quickly, trying to calm herself.

It it's too soon then I've worn this itchy lace bra and panties set for nothing. Not to mention having everything waxed. That chilled Meg's flaming libido by half.

“I know the feeling. You are quite distracting.” His voice sounded husky; surprising Meg. He surprised her again when he stood up and took her hand, pulling her into his arms.

“There isn't any music playing but would you like to dance?”

Meg nodded as she fell into step with his lead. Ben's left hand lay low at the small of her back. She let him pull her against him tighter and she laid her cheek against his firm shoulder.

Oh, he smells good, Meg thought as they swayed slowly in the dark kitchen. Subtly, Meg maneuvered Ben's hand to rest more on her butt, trying to give him a hint.

“Ah, Meg, are you …?” he trailed off, hand frozen where she'd put it.

“Mmm hmmm,” she hummed slowly.

“Unless you'd rather not. If it's too soon …” She pulled back, trying to gauge his reaction in the darkness.

“Meg,” he said, voice playful. “ shh …” With that Ben pulled her flush against his body, his arousal solid against her lower belly. Ben's kissed kept her mouth busy as his hands roamed her body freely, clothing disappearing in their wake.

For her part, Meg first ran her fingers through his hair. Ben led them out of the kitchen, down the hall to her bedroom by the glow of a small nightlight. Meg laughed when her legs hit the mattress and she fell backward.

“Too many layers,” she smirked, sitting up to disrobe her Mountie. Ever obliging, Ben kicked off his shoes as she unbuttoned his flannel shirt. Their hands collided at his belt buckle.

“You have the honors,” Ben mumbled as he pulled his t-shirt and tossed it in a corner.

Meg unbuckled the brown leather belt quickly but decided to take her torturously sweet time with the zipper. She watched him close those passion darkened eyes, his breathing ragged. One tooth at a time Meg dragged the zipper handle down, slowly releasing the tension his straining arousal caused the faded denim.

“Oh dear,” she heard him mutter, voice strangled.

Meg yanked the zipper handle all the way down, having mercy on him. A moment later he'd discarded both his jeans and underwear. Ben stood before her as naked as the day he was born.

He's beautiful, she thought silently as her gaze traveled from his handsome face to his broad shoulders, down his chest and abdomen. The Fraser Family Jewels stared back at her. Looking into his face she saw apprehension.

I don't know what he's worried about with the size of THOSE crown jewels, Meg mused, barely hiding her amazement. She slipped her hand around Ben's wrist, pulling him onto the bed with her. Looking into his eyes as he lay beside her so close she said, “Let's just be together tonight, no worries, no expectations.” She caressed his cheek before kissing him softly.

“Okay,” he answered breathily, a soft smile on his face.

“Okay,” Meg chuckled before moving in for another kiss. Benton nibbled and gently sucked his way down Meg's neck and across her collar bone. She couldn't get enough of his hands on her breast, his deft fingers discarding her bra in a fraction of a second.

She finally understood what all the paperback romance novels she'd read as a teen meant, all the flowery lines and euphemisms. Her body felt hot, his kisses hotter. Loins pooled with desire as Ben used those deft fingers to stroke her clit. Through her haze she touched him in return. She clasped his ass before sliding her fingers over his hips and south to his tight, erect penis. She trailed her thumb along the length until she held his full, firm balls in hand.

Damn! He's a stallion, Meg marveled a moment before pushing his fingers away and then guiding Ben inside her slick, swollen core. It took him only a heartbeat to delve deeper.

“Oh, Ben!” Meg gasped, her core muscles overwhelmed by his girth. She'd never had a lover this big or this deep before.

“Should I stop?” Ben huffed, frozen in place above her.

“NO!!” Meg growled, taking a breath to relax and pulling her legs up farther around his waist.

“Meg, please,” Ben ground out, his mouth near her ear, his breath fluttering along her sweat dampened skin.

“Yes, Ben, oh yes!” She arched against him before grabbing his ass for encouragement to thrust. He soon found a rhythm. With each onslaught he drover her closer to peak.

“I'm not done with him yet,” she decided. Using a self-defense move from her days in Regina, Meg flipped Ben onto his back.

“My word, Meg,” he managed as she pinned his wrists to the bed beneath them. When she went down on him hard, Ben could only pant in ecstasy.

A few, frantic minutes later Meg collapsed on top of him, lost in orgasmic bliss. It had been fireworks over Paris, zero to a hundred in a Ferrari and more for both of them. After a few minutes of catching their breath, Ben and Meg settled into her bed, her wearing his t-shirt.

“I hope Diefenbaker will be alright by himself tonight,” Meg spoke softly as she nestled close to Ben.

“He'll be fine,” he mumbled before laying one arm around her waist and cupping her bra-free breast.

“G'night, Meg,” he mumbled again sleepily.

“Pleasant dreams, Ben,” she wished him.

****


	3. Chapter 3

_**End Flashback …** _

_**The Next Day …** _

Meg still hadn't found a way to let Benton, or herself, down easy. She dressed for the consulate, skipped breakfast and left her apartment before Ben finished walking Diefenbaker.

Fresh air. Meg needed fresh air and time alone to think. She decided to take the long way to work – the EL Train.

I'll catch the train, let it lull me as I think, she told herself. Meg felt reasonably safe on the train, what with the crowd of Chicagoans going to work; the only drawback being the scent of perfumes, body odors and alcohol left from overnight riders. She took a deep breath of reasonably clean air before boarding.

Once on the train, Meg found a seat. She tucked her purse and briefcase close to her side. Wrapped in her stylish, but serviceable, wool coat she let the city slide by as the train jostled from side to side. Below, people moved along intent on their business, their destination.

“Mind if I sit?”

A husky, female voice interrupted Meg's thoughts. Looking up, she peered into the face of a stout, black woman in her late fifties.

“Oh, yes. Pardon me.” Meg gathered her purse and briefcase onto her lap to make room.

“It's too early to have been such a long day already,” the other woman said with a heavy sigh. Meg simply gave her a perfunctionally pleasant expression before going back to watching the city skyline.

“I don't mean to nose into anyone's business but are you alright? You look like you're carrying around a heartache.” The woman adjusted her glasses dangling from a beaded chain onto her blue-green nurse's scrubs.

“I'm fine, thank you,” Meg insisted, pasting on her best diplomatic face.

The older woman studied Meg, her brown eyes soft and seemingly all-knowing.

“I raised five children mostly by myself after my husband died. I saw it in the mirror every morning. I saw it in my children's eyes after their daddy was shot in his police cruiser,” she spoke steadily.

Meg had to brush a stray tear from her cheek. This woman certainly knew something about how she felt.

“Was your husband a law enforcement officer when you met?” Meg asked, her voice coarse.

“We grew up together. Anthony always wanted to be a police officer. That was a nearly impossible thing when we were kids, especially in our neighborhood.” A bright smile lit the woman's face as she reminisced.

“How could you have a family, have a marriage, knowing he may never come back? That isn't fair to you or the children.” Meg pointed out.

“Anthony had lots of jobs before he got onto the police academy. None of them made him as happy as being a police officer, helping other people. He wanted to teach our children to help others and to have courage. Anthony did that leading by example.”

Meg listened to the woman's words carefully, mulling them over and applying them to herself and Ben.

“I fell in love with the Anthony who loved helping others. Asking him to change would have made him into someone else, not the man I love,” the woman added softly.

Ben would try to change. He would be safe but not happy. Eventually he would resent me, Meg realized. Her heart squeezed painfully at the thought of Ben resenting her or hating her in any way.

“You want to tell me about your man?”

Meg didn't even know this woman's name yet she felt comfortable enough to tell her about her problems.

“My boyfriend,” What a dumb term, Meg thought as she forced out the word, “is a law enforcement officer; a Canadian Mountie. I'm his superior officer. He's only supposed to work at the consulate; sentry-duty, paperwork, humoring the bureaucracy. Instead he spends his time saving Chicago with his deaf wolf-dog who's more tame than the detective following him around.” Meg huffed a frustrated sigh.

“I love him but what if, one day, he's risking his life and something happens? How will I go on without him?” Tears welled in Meg's eyes as her words spilled. Quickly, she pulled a tissue from her purse.

“Accountants die in accidents every day; meteorologists, priests, things happen, like it or not.”

“Logically I know that, but in my heart …” Meg couldn't continue for the lump in her throat.

“You love him. It's natural to want him safe. My oldest son is thirty-six; every day he calls to let me know he's safe. He's a grown man with two kids and works at a radio station.”

Meg couldn't help but chuckle. Her own parents had been overprotective until she'd been promoted to a desk job. They still cautioned her to be careful living in a dangerous, American city. They saw mobsters around every corner.

“Am I overreacting?” Meg asked.

The other woman smiled. “Just a little, yeah. It's just growing pains. I bet you've never opened your heart to anyone this much.”

Meg knew she'd been correctly pegged the moment her companion set eyes on her. She nodded, the most of her tears drying.

“Talk to him. If he loves you he'll understand. Tell him like it is to you.”

“Thank you. I will.” Meg felt shy after spilling her guts to a stranger.

People around them began shuffling toward the doors as the train stopped. Meg gathered up her briefcase and purse as well. It wasn't her stop but she felt the need to move.

“Thank you again. I didn't get your name.” Meg stopped in her tracks.  
“Janelle Bresbiss. Pleased to meet you.” She politely shook Meg's hand who stood there dumbfounded. Was it a coincidence, Meg wondered.

Janelle Bresbiss made it through the double doors before Meg found her voice. In the press of people trying to exit she also lost sight of her.

For the best I suppose, Meg told herself.

*******

A block from the consulate Meg stopped in her tracks. Two doors down hung a sign advertising Johnson's Pharmacy.

“It's now or never,” she muttered. She tamped down her anxiety and walked into the small store. Three aisles from the door she found home pregnancy tests. She quickly chose one and paid for it in cash.

With the test safely stowed away in a brown, paper bag inside her purse, Meg walked to the consulate. Ben already stood sentry duty outside the building, his handsome face impassive.

Stopping Meg spoke low. “Meet me at my apartment for lunch. There are important things we need to talk about.” She walked into the consulate hoping to get some work done before meeting him.

_******** _

_**Meg's Apartment …** _

Meg met Ben outside her building just as she arrived in a cab. From the way Diefenbaker's tongue lolled they'd jogged most of the way. Ben looked as fresh as a daisy. Typical.

“Are you alright?” Ben asked before even saying hello. Meg had expected that response.

“I'm fine, thank you.” She sounded strained to her won ears. “Let's go upstairs.”

Together, with Dief, they found their way to her third floor apartment. As soon as she closed the door Ben put a hand on her forearm, turning her around. “Meg, what is it? You're tense.”

Meg opened her briefcase, retrieved the brown paper bag and handed it to him. She watched as he pulled the white and pastel box out. Ben's gaze snapped from the box to Meg.

“You're …” he stuttered, his face chalk white.

“I don't know. I haven't taken the test yet. That's one of the things we need to talk about.”

Ben, having recovered somewhat, slipped his hand into Meg's.

“Are you ready to take the test?”

I am now, she thought silently.

“Let's do this,” Meg affirmed.

Dief barked, startling both humans.

*******

Meg listened through the cracked, bathroom door as Ben read the directions to the pee test. Anxious, she had to force the urine out.

Any other time I'd piss like a racehorse, she thought to herself.

Finally, she'd hit the short, white stick, starting the countdown to the rest of her life. The gravity of that nearly forced her to the floor.

I could be pregnant. Ben's baby. Me, a mother!

“Meg, is everything alright? You're mumbling.” Ben called through the slightly open door.

“Just mildly panicked, otherwise alright,” she answered before she could adjust her navy skirt.

“Perhaps a cup of bark tea would help,” Benton suggested, pushing the door open a bit farther.

Meg shot him a disgusted look in the mirror as she washed her hands.

“How long does it say to wait?” She gestured to the test laying on the toilet seat lid.

“Five minutes,” Benton answered, referring to the instructions.

“And how long is left?” He'd been keeping a mental timer going she knew. Ben had as much at stake as she did.

“Three minutes, forty-even seconds,” came his specific reply.

Three minutes to forever.

Ben stepped up behind her, slid his arms around her waist and pulled her close. Meg felt the buttons on his tunic against her back.

“Regardless of the results, I love you,” he said as he leaned his cheek against her temple.

“I love you, too.” Their fingers twined as they stood close. Meg relaxed, leaning into Ben's solid body.

“Until this morning I wasn't certain you and I had a future. Seeing you in the ER sent me into a panic. How could I have a future with you if you were hurt or got killed? How could I raise a family with you with that possibility? I didn't think I could go on without you. I still don't know.” Meg let out a long, shuddering sigh. She felt wrung out emotionally.

“Meg, if it's a matter of …” Ben began.

“On the train this morning I met a woman who'd lost her husband, a police officer, while he was on patrol. They had five children.” Meg gave him an abbreviated version of Janelle's story and how she helped Meg.

“I don't want you to change – ever,” Meg said fiercely, turning to put her arms around him. She felt Ben stroke her back, felt his love for her in ways he could never express in mere words.

When Meg pulled back, her emotions on steadier footing, Ben motioned to the pregnancy test.

“According to the provided directions the result is negative. You aren't pregnant,” Ben announced, searching Meg's face.

“Oh,” she said softly. Happiness and sadness raced through her.

“I don't know how I feel about this. Happy, sad, disappointed?” It felt all like a frazzled rope's end, all coming from the same source but twirled in many directions.

A firm finger under her chin pulled Meg's face and therefore her gaze up to Ben.

“When we have children they will be beautiful and intelligent just like you.” He smiled, making her smile in return.

“As well as wise and kind like you.” Meg chuckled when Ben blushed.

After a kiss Ben said, “Come on, I'll buy lunch on the way back to the consulate.”

“Or we could skip lunch and the consulate and change the results of the next pregnancy test,” Meg suggested, her voice husky and her fingers toying with his lanyard.

“Why, Meg!” Ben burst out, mock scandalized.

“I'm sure the boss won't mind,” she whispered suggestively as she unfastened his tunic collar.

“Well, since you put it that way.”

Together they stumbled into Meg's bedroom.

_**THE END** _


End file.
